Right Behind You
by Ricke
Summary: Children look to their parent's for reassurance. Legolas is no exception from that rule. When he grows older though, it becomes less and less until it stops altogether... A story of a father and a son who try to remember what it means to be a family and how to forgive each other.


**Hello people. This is my first attempt at a story in any world of Tolkien's and to say I'm slightly terrified would be an understatement. There are so many people who know so much more about the whole world of Middle-earth than I do.**

 **First of: I don't know Sindarin or any other of Tolkien's languages, I don't even know English all that well. Second: Legolas' age is really hard to determine. I've read posts and posts but no-one knows. So in this story I've made him the age of the movie-Legolas which is 2931 when the Fellowship of the Ring sets out (I think.) Third: There's no third. I just hate to leave it at two.**

 **I'm not sure if this is more of a Hobbit or a LotR story. I'm posting it here for now. If anyone thinks it should be in the other section, just tell me and I might post it there instead.**

 **Disclaimer: Not betaed so any mistakes you find are purely my own. Furthermore, I'm not Tolkien nor am I related to him (too bad. would love to be genius). I'm not making money out of this (wouldn't that be awesome?).**

 **So without further ado, enjoy reading.**

* * *

He remembers the first time it happened like it was just yesterday and not more than three thousand years ago. His little one had just been born, merely a few months ago and he was already the most precious, beautiful and intelligent little elfling that had ever walked Arda. He had played with him, holding him securely in his arms and wandered the throne room with him. His wife was resting in their chambers. She deserved it.

While it was true that Legolas was indeed the most precious being he could imagine, it was also by now common knowledge in his whole kingdom that the King's son was anything but a calm newborn. It seemed as though the little prince had never bothered learning to walk, instead opting for running right after having crawled for only a few short weeks. He had learned to speak faster than any elfling before him and ever since then the stream of words leaving his mouth never ceased. Since he, as the king, could not constantly care for his son, his wife did most of that. It was obvious that she loved their little Greenleaf more than anything (and sometimes he couldn't help feeling slightly jealous) but this morning she had walked into the throne room, handed him Legolas silently and left.

And now here he was, with his little, overly active son for once quiet and peaceful in his arms, listening to him spinning tales and stories.

"Ada?", Legolas had said. "Ada, why was Feanor so evil? Why did he hate others so much?" He was clutching his father's long hair in his small fists.

"Now, hate is a very strong word, ion nin. I think he did not hate others, he was mostly angry and sad." he answered in his deep, rich voice.

"But why would he be sad? It's sad to be sad. I don't like it. And angry. Why? It's not nice to be angry. He could have been happy instead." Legolas smiled proudly at his idea. Yes, being happy was by far the preferred choice. He couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips at his son's words.

"That's true. Very true, ion. But, you see, he was sad because his Naneth had left him and his father alone and we both know how important a Naneth is, don't we?"

"Yes!" Legolas' eyes twinkled with excitement. He loved his mother so unbelievable much, idolised her even. "We love Nana!" he nearly shouted. He had to chuckle.

"Indeed we do. And you see, Feanor never had a Nana. She left right after he was born."

"But he had his Ada, yes? Why couldn't he love his Ada instead?" While saying this, Legolas placed his head back on his father's shoulder. He stroked his hair marvelling at how very soft the elflings growing tresses were.

"He loved his Ada. Of course he did. But his Ada decided to find another wife whom he loved just as much as his first wife and he had little children with her as well and Feanor felt like he had been abandoned and replaced." he explained.

"Replaced?" Legolas asked quietly. "Will you replace me and Nana, Ada?" Big, round, slightly moist eyes looked up at him.

"Never, ion nin. Never in a million years." He clutched him close to his chest after that and Legolas stretched his little arms around his neck to return the embrace.

"I love you, Ada."

"And I love you, ion." He answered.

Their little moment was interrupted by a throat being cleared. The king raised his head to look at the intruder.

"Excuse me, my lord. The queen says to fetch the prince to return him to her to allow you to resume your work." Galion, his servant of hundreds of years said.

"If the queen says so." Thranduil answered, reluctant to let his son go to get back to ruling his kingdom. Silently he handed Legolas over to Galion. When his son was in the servant's arms, he looked back at him questioningly.

"It's alright, ion. Galion will take you to Naneth." Reassured by his father's words, Legolas turned his attention to the servant and immediately started talking about Feanor and how they should find him a Nana.

It had been the first time his son had looked back at him for reassurance.

* * *

The next time he remembers explicitly happened a few years later and it is by far the most painful memory he has. His son was just five years old, still an infant, when he came back broken and shaking with sorrow, anger, hurt and all-consuming grief. They had lost too many. Too many immortal souls who were lost forever, destroyed by dragon fire, robbed of all chance to be reincarnated, gone. And among them was his wife, the love of his life, the queen of his people, mother of his son. His best friend. She was gone and contrary to others who had lost their spouses, he would never see her again, not in the Halls of Mandos and not in Valinor. His son had run up to him when they had come back from the battle, only a handful of people, a fraction of the army that had set out for the battle. Legolas had not understood what had happened. He had wrapped his little arms around his neck and tried to hold him, just like he had been held by his parents many times. "Don't cry, Ada." he had said but that's exactly what he had done. For days.

And then the funeral loomed, which was a farce really, because whom do you bury when there is nothing left of a person? What do you put in grave when there are no bones, no body? Which soul do you bid speedy and safe passage to the next life when there's no fea left?

They had decided to erect a memorial to pay tribute to the fallen and a statue of his wife to honour her. He doesn't remember much of the funeral itself. Nothing but pain, deep and agonising pain and the knowledge that he would never feel whole again.

A little hand in his' startled him out of his gloomy thoughts for the first time in days. He looked down at it and was met by his son's big eyes looking back up at him.

"Ada?" he said cautiously. "Ada, are you very sad?"

"Yes, ion. Yes, I am." He answered and felt the tears threatening to leave his eyes.

"But Ada, we said that it's better to be happy." Legolas answered quietly. "Didn't we say so, Ada?"

"Yes. Yes, we did. But sometimes it's hard to be happy, Legolas."

"I know. I'm sad, too." said his son and the timid admission tugged at his heart and for the first time in days he felt something else besides the numbing grief.

"But I'm trying to be happy again. You know, Nana told me that people we love stay with us. Here." He pointed to his chest. "And here." He pointed to his temple. "And there is Nana, right there. See?" He pointed to the statue.

"Ada?"

"Yes, ion?"

"Ada, I'm going to say goodbye to Nana now, yes?" Carefully, he tucked on his father's hand. He slowly walked towards the statue, dragging the ellon with him but stopped when he was right in front of it. Legolas turned to his father, silently asking for permission, for a sign that what he was doing was the right thing. Slowly he inclined his head and Legolas turned back around, kissed his own palm and then placed it against the stone portraying his mother.

"Goodbye, Nana." he whispered. "I'll love you forever."

His tears spilled over when his son returned his hand to his side.

"You have to do it, too.", the little one whispered and proceeded to turn the hand he held in his grip so that the palm faced upwards before placing a small kiss right into the centre of it. "You too." he urged again and he kissed his own palm and his son took his hand and placed it on the statue. When the little fingers let his long, shaking fingers go, he clutched his son to his chest as if his very life depended on it.

It did.

That was the second time he remembers his son looking back at him for reassurance.

* * *

The third time was years later and Legolas was finally allowed to start his training properly. The queen's death was still fresh in everyone's mind and still pained the king as much as it did right after the fire breathing worm took her from him. His son, however, had blossomed. He was sure that had it not been for his little Greenleaf, he would have faded and his kingdom would have crumbled beneath the weight of grief put on it by the deaths of their loved ones. The little prince had acted like a ray of sunshine, though. Like a fresh wind that blows away the stale air, ruffles the leaves so that new ones can blossom and carries smells of new and exciting things. Legolas was truly the blessing of the Woodland elves and though he didn't tell him nearly enough he was unutterably grateful for what he had done for all of them. When he had felt like he would fade from pain, his son had appeared at his side, taken his hand and looked him in the eyes. Most of the time that had been enough. When it wasn't, Legolas hugged him and said quietly "Try to be happy again, yes? You have to try, Ada.". And he tried. He tried for his son.

The day of his first proper training, he accompanied him to the training fields.

"I'm grown, Ada. You don't have to come." his son had said.

"Of course you're grown, ion." he had answered. "But I want to see you off only this once, because I won't be able to anymore when you're no longer my little Greenleaf." Legolas had hugged him then and looked up at him. "I'll always be your little Greenleaf." he had said "I'll always be your Legolas." and then he took him by they hand and together they walked towards the training fields. When they got close to reaching them, Legolas let his fathers hand go and started to fidget.

"Are you alright, ion nin?" he asked with a slight smirk playing around his lips.

"Hm? Yes. Yes. Of course." was the curt response. He couldn't help but chuckle slightly at his son's nervousness.

"You'll be alright, Legolas. I'll be right behind you if you need me." he had murmured and his son had stopped fidgeting and instead walked confidently towards his first proper lesson in swordsmanship.

When they reached the fields, they were greeted by Beleg, the master of swords at the time and his son was introduced to the elflings he would be training with.

The practice started and he stayed and watched. At one point the elflings were allowed to practice with wooden swords in their first attempt at a small duel. Legolas was handed his sword seemingly growing at least two inches with pride. He stepped towards his opponent, a young female elfling about his age and focused on concentrating on the duel. Right before they were allowed to start though, he suddenly turned his head back, his eyes searching. When they landed on his father, they looked at him questioningly for only a fraction of a breath before having found what they were looking for and turning back towards the girl and the task at hand.

He felt his head come back up after having been inclined only minimally, encouragingly.

His son won his first fight and he felt pride settle in his chest. He'd be a formidable fighter one day. For now, though, he had much left to learn.

His son turned his gaze back to his father proudly, asking for praise. His father smiled faintly and nodded once more.

That had been the third time.

* * *

As it is with children, Legolas continued to grow and become more independent. And the more his son became a grown ellon, the less he searched for his father's reassurance. There were some incidences here and there but all in all he turned less and less to his father. Along with his son growing up, he turned more into himself. What was his purpose when his son no longer needed him? When his Legolas, his Greenleaf, the reason he had not succumbed to the fading before no longer needed him to guide him along his path, to protect him, what was his reason for staying? He tried to steel himself and his heart for the day when his son would tell him that he no longer required his assistance and in doing so he seemed to push him further away than he had intended. Pride, lingering pain and caution forbid him to remedy his mistake though and father and son grew estranged.

Legolas went on his first patrol when he was one hundred and twenty one years old, a mere child in his father's eyes. The minute he was told that Legolas would be going on his first patrol, a fear had gripped his heart and stomach and had not left since. As a result he had raged, had yelled at Beleg and at his son for allowing elflings to check the security of their borders. In the end it had been Legolas himself who had broken his tirade.

"I'm grown, Adar. Whether you want to recognise it or not. My duty lies with our people and I want to protect them as best I can. I want to fight, I want to help. Please, Adar. Say you'll let me do this, yes?" Legolas had looked him in the eyes pleadingly and because he was still stunned by the number of words his son had spoken to him which were more than he had spoken to him over the last year combined, he slowly nodded. His son's face had lit up then and while he should have cherished one of his son's now-rare smiles, the grip around his heart only tightened threatening to choke the blood out of his body. Why would his son, his little son want to put himself in danger so desperately? Why did he have to be the one to protect when it was his responsibility? Why would his son have to be the one who felt he had to make his father see sense?

The next morning when the patrol was about to depart, he went down to the entrance of his fortress to see them off. Legolas was properly equipped and dressed in the common patrol garb. The only thing indicating that he was the prince of the kingdom were his daggers which he had gotten for his one hundredth birthday. They displayed the royal crest and sat proudly on his back.

"Stand to attention! His Highness, the King!" Beleg bellowed and everyone, Legolas included, straightened their backs. The king walked along the line of elves and tried to look as though he was inspecting them when in reality all he was focused on was his son, who seemed so very detached as if he was as unrelated to him as everyone else in the line. He stepped to the side when he had looked at everyone once and nodded at Beleg. "Very well." he said. This wasn't an inauguration so there was no need for flowery speeches and kingly words. He was merely here to see his son off. "Let's go then." Beleg said and the elves turned to leave.

His attention was solely focused on his son who had turned along with everyone else. He took one step, two, three and then he turned his head around and his gaze found his father's. He nodded at his son once and allowed a small, wistful smile to appear on his face. He could have imagined it but his son seemed to look startled for the shortest of seconds. Before he could be certain, though Legolas turned back around and soon he was out of sight.

Long after the patrol had left, the king still stood at the entrance of his halls.

"Come back to me, ion, my little Greenleaf." he whispered before he finally turned and walked back to the throne and his duties that seemed to weigh him down even more than normally.

This had been the fourth and last time for many years that his son had looked at his father for reassurance.

* * *

Years went by and the danger in Middle-earth grew. Foul creatures entered their kingdom and the elves retreated further and further into their fortress. Simultaneously the patrols went out more often and more often than not someone was brought home injured, harmed or dead. Every day the king's worry for his only son grew and every day said son appeared to become more reckless. When the battle for the Lonely Mountain loomed and his son was nowhere to be found he completely shut off his heart. He had to function. He owed it to his people, to his son, to get their heirloom back. He had to! But when they arrived in Dale and there was still no sign of him, only a report of him having ridden off with Tauriel, he slowly started to loose hope. Why did his son have to do this? Why did he have to ride off to Eru-knows-where without telling him about it? Why did he have to endanger himself? Why could he not have stayed in the fortress or at least by his side so that he could protect him as he had always tried to do?

The battle inevitably began and suddenly there were so many orcs, so many enemies, people dying all around him and no chance to flee, nowhere to run, no place where he could try to keep his people alive. He rode back into the city on his elk and out of the blue there were arrows everywhere and his trusted friend, his mighty steed fell and he fell with him. When he got to his knees there were orcs all around him and no one close who could help him against the masses. He drew his swords and fought, sure that he would not make it out of this one but hoping, praying that he would so that he could see his son one more time, tell him that he loved him, and protect him from harm.

Miraculously he made it and suddenly she was in front of him aiming an arrow at him. Where was Legolas? Wherever she was, he was not far. Where was his son? He appeared with a drawn sword and pushed his blade down from where it had rested with its tip against the elleth's throat. And before he knew what had happened his son had left again.

"Those gems were not all that your wife left you, my friend." Where had Mithrandir come from? "She left you a son. Tell me, which would she have you value more?" Legolas. Legolas! Where had he gone?

When he realised where he was headed he made to follow and out of nowhere tons and tons of orcs appeared once more. He killed them. Everyone who was in the path between him and his son was slain. He didn't feel the blow to his side.

When he finally reached the top of the hill, the Eagles had come and the battle had been won. At what cost though? He couldn't find Legolas and started to grow frantic. If he had died. If he was gone. Wounded, somewhere. All alone and bleeding. If-

And then he was right in front of him.

"I cannot go back." He said and his heart shattered into a million pieces. Legolas turned to go and he realised that this might be the last time he ever saw his son.

"Where will you go?" he asked, desperate to keep him close for only a few minutes longer.

"I do not know." his son said. And he became aware once more of how different he sounded from when he was young. There was no asking what to do. This was an ellon who knew that he had no idea what to do but who would not ask his father, not anymore, for directions. Frantically searching for a place he could send his son to without endangering him too much, he said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Go North. Find the Dunedain." A letter he had received from Lord Elrond came to his mind. "There's a young ranger amongst them. You should meet him." Meeting a young human could not be that dangerous, right? "His father, Arathorn, was a good man." _I'm sorry. I did everything I could, ion nin._ "His son might grow to be a great one." _I'm so very proud of you, my little Greenleaf._

"What is his name" Legolas asked. Had he acknowledged what his father tried to tell him?

"He's known in the wild as Strider. His true name you must discover for yourself." _I love you, Legolas. And I know you will come back one day and in the meantime you'll take care of yourself._ None of those things he said. And when his son looked at him with a puzzled expression, he was not sure if he had understood any of the things he had tried to say so badly but couldn't. He had to try once more. He had to make him understand that he was the most important thing in his life.

"Legolas" he called after the retreating back of his elfling. "Your mother loved you. More than anyone. More than life." He wanted to tell him how he felt the same. He wanted to explain to Legolas why he had acted the way he had why he could not allow himself to feel too openly because feeling _hurt_ , it ached and it never stopped. Just like the pain that had come with his wife's death had never receded over the course of more than two-thousand years.

A little turn of the head, a hand to the heart, an inclined head, nearly a small bow. Looking to his father, like he had done in the past but ultimately deciding against it.

And then his son was gone.

This was the last time, Legolas looked at his father for reassurance.

* * *

Weeks grew into months, months turned into years, years added up into decades. At some point Tauriel had returned, broken and grieving but whole. He had allowed her to come back and resume her post. There was no sense in denying her the right to fight, to serve and to _forget_ in the process. She didn't bother him if only for the stab that went into his heart whenever he saw her and his son was not right behind her. He had grown so used to seeing them together.

The wound he had sustained during the battle, the one he could not even remember happening, proved to be more grave than he had at first thought. When he had returned from the cursed hill, grieving and lost, Galion had rushed forwards just in time to catch him before he fainted. An orc blade hat caught him in the side and in the process broken a few ribs. One of them had punctured his lung, another one pieced into his skin close to breaking through. Blood was gathering all along the right side of his torso. Healers were rushed into his tent to take care of him. He knew the wound was bad but not fatal. Nonetheless, he did not heal. Weeks passed and his side refused to gain back its original color, his ribs simply wouldn't grow back together. He grew increasingly tired and took to sleeping for prolonged periods of time, something that elves rarely did. Only when the healers started talking about calling Legolas so that he could be there 'just in case', did he start to force his body to get better. He didn't want his son to come. He didn't want Legolas to feel obligated. He was supposed to see the world. He had said that he didn't want to return and so he would no make him do so. With sheer force of will, he managed to heal enough to resume his kingly duties. His side never completely healed though and even years later he could not sleep on it.

One day, Legolas suddenly returned with a human and a captured _thing_. It was to be taken prisoner. It was ironic how he let someone, even his son, order him to do what they wanted. Never would he have let something like that happen. But happen it did and the _thing,_ Gollum, was thrown into his dungeons. During Legolas' visit the prince never spoke to his father privately. Not once. And without anyone really knowing how, the creature escaped and it was decided that Elrond and the Council would have to be made aware of that. Of course, the one who volunteered to ride out and tell them of the escape was his son. This time when Legolas left, he did not look back once. He simply mounted his horse and rode of, leaving his father standing lost, clutching his hand to his side that still hurt after so many years. His son had not noticed that something was wrong.

The War of the Ring happened and he had to fight _again_. Gone were his aversion against going into battle. It wasn't that he particularly liked it but he felt that it might help his son. His son, who had run off on a suicidal quest to destroy the One Ring, to take it into _Mordor_. As if that was at all possible. His son, whom he loved so very much it hurt. He hoped that joining the war would take some pressure of the Fellowship. Every orc that was killed by his blade was an orc that could not endanger Legolas.

They were victorious but it had been a very close call for him. His bad side, as he had taken to calling it, wouldn't allow him to move as freely and fluidly as he had before. One arrow pierced his shoulder while he was trying to dodge an attack and a sword hit him in the left thigh. Similar to his wound from the Battle Of the Five Armies these two blows refused to heal properly. Gone were his days of extensive pride and he took to using a cane. His leg often hurt tremendously and he could not stand for prolonged periods of time anymore.

Five years after the One Ring had been destroyed, Legolas appeared once more in the halls of his father. He didn't look him in the eye when he stepped before the king.

"Hîr vuin." He simply said and bowed his head. "I have returned only to ask you to allow me to leave again. I wish to go to Ithilien to restore what has been destroyed there. With your leave I would take some elves who are willing with me." At the end of his speech he raised his head and finally looked at his father. What he saw made him take a step back. Gone was the overly proud king. While still imposing, his father seemed to lack his attention-commanding self-assuredness.

"Legolas." his father breathed. "You wish to leave again so soon? Will you not stay and tell me of the years past?" He slowly rose from his throne and took the stairs more cautiously than his son was used to seeing. And was there a slight limp? This couldn't be. Before he had fully reached the bottom of the stairs, the prince spoke up once more.

"Yes, I wish to leave again. This is not my home anymore" - oh, how his words hurt- "and it has ceased doing so a long time ago. I want to go back to my friends and now that the old Greenwood is safe, I feel I'm needed more in Gondor." Finally his father had reached him. If it were at all possible, he would have said that he looked _old_.

"Only for a fortnight, Legolas. Rest, restore you energy and then you may leave and take whomever wants to join you with you."

"Hîr vuin, I-"

"Please, ion." He pleaded and his son felt his jaw drop. His father never begged. Never. And now he had done just that. Slowly he raised his hand to the younger one's face but before he reached it, Legolas had taken a step back.

"No. I wish to leave. Let me go, Hîr vuin. Let me go." His hand closed into a lose fist and he pulled it back to his chest before he slowly nodded. "You've never been held back, Legolas. You're free to do as you wish." With those words, Legolas turned on his heels and left. He didn't look back.

"Your cane, my king." Galion said from the shadows. He emerged with the wooden stick held firmly in his hands and stopped when he was in front of the Sindar.

"Yes, thank you, Galion." He took the cane but instead of turning back towards the throne he made to leave the room. "I'm going to rest. I feel tired." he said. The sound of the cane on the stone floors could be heard for a long time after he had turned the corner.

* * *

More than another one hundred years had passed when a ship reached the shores of Valinor. On it was a tall, blond ellon desperately trying to catch a glimpse of the faces of the people up on the land. His eyes were searching for another blond, taller than him, with broad shoulders. When he had left Middle-earth his eyes had repeatedly wandered behind him as if trying to find the gaze of his father. Just like he had done when he was a mere elfling, asking for reassurance. But no one had been there. His father had not been right behind him ready to help him or to offer advice. Legolas had forgiven him. He had long forgiven him for being the person that he was. Finally after having spent years apart he had been able to understand the grief his father had gone through and the strength it must have cost him to continuously decide to move on. He had made peace with the resentment he had harboured over the years. Gone were the rage and anger and he was left with a deep longing and true love for the only parent he had ever really know. Now as he stood aboard the ship he was giddy with excitement. He wanted to see his father again, to feel this sense of belonging that only a parent could offer regardless of the circumstances. They drew closer and elves around him started to recognise loved ones, to cheer and wave. He smiled happy to join in their joy and sure of being able to join in their waving in only a few seconds when he recognised him.

He didn't.

The ship landed, people went to embrace friends and family and the shore emptied. Only two persons remained standing. The prince's eyes lit up when he recognised the elf in front of him.

"Galion!" he laughed. "How long it has been since I have last seen you!" He put his hand on the other ellon's shoulder, a gesture that was mirrored by Galion.

"Hîr vuin." Galion said solemnly.

"How is the king. The last time I've seen him he didn't look all that good." He continued unfazed by the servant's serious expression.

"No. He wasn't. He had been injured during the Battle of the Five Armies and then again during the War of the Ring. He had to use a cane -"

"A cane? What are you saying? I saw him after the War of the Ring. There was no cane. He looked worse for wear to some extent but don't you think I would have noticed if my father had used a cane?" he said still trying to laugh.

"I don't know. Would you?" the servant asked icily.

"Out with it. What is it, Galion? Where is the king?" Legolas asked, still smiling despite feeling that something was terribly wrong.

"What do you mean, my lord? Have you not talked to the king before you left?" Galion asked with a certain degree of resentment in his voice.

"And how was I supposed to do that when he has long sailed?" Legolas asked annoyed.

Silence. None of the two ellyn talked. Finally after minutes of pregnant silence, Galion cleared his throat.

"He has not, Hîr vuin. My King Thranduil has not sailed. He had decided to remain in Middle-earth until he was certain of your fate and whether you would remain or decide to sail. He is still in Greenwood. Waiting for word from you." he said quietly.

"What do you mean, still in Greenwood, still in Middle-earth? He has sailed. Why would he have remained there? This must be a misunderstanding."

"It isn't, my lord."

"But, but then how can we reach him? How can we tell him I'm here? How can we contact him?" Legolas was growing increasingly agitated

"We can't.", was all Galion said.

* * *

The sun rose in the east and for the first time he saw the continent so many had talked about so fondly. From the distance it looked just like any other shore, really. There was sand and grass, trees and in the distance he could see houses.

"Here we are." the elleth next to him said. She had appeared at his right as silently as she always did and carefully slid her hand into his.

"Yes. Here we are. I wonder if we will be welcome." he answered.

"We will be." she said. She was always so very sure of herself. "Why would we not be?"

"Oh, Tauriel. Sometimes I wish for your naiveté." He turned towards her and saw her roll her eyes at his words. Tauriel had remained with him. One day about seventy years after the War of the Ring, Galion had come up to him asking to sail to Valinor. He had felt guilty for leaving his king but he had wanted to see his family again and he was afraid of fading if he stayed in Middle-earth for much longer.

"Please come with me, Hîr vuin. Please." he had said.

"And leave my son here? No. What if he decides to come back and I am not here. I can't simply leave, Galion. I will wait until he comes back and tells me of his plan to sail and then I will go as well, but as of now my place remains here." he had answered.

"But who will take care of you?" the dutiful servant had asked. The king had laughed at that.

"Be assured, Mellon, that I am a fully grown ellon and very capable of taking care of myself should the need arise." The laughter did not nearly reach his eyes but the sound in itself had become so unfamiliar to Galion that he was stunned into silence.

"Besides, he has me." an elleth spoke from the entrance of the throne room. Both ellyn turned around and looked at her with differing measures of shock.

"He does?" - "I do?" they asked at the same time.

"You do." she said. "If you'll have me. My fate is bound to yours as it has been since you rescued me when I was still an elfling. I shall stay here with you as long as you'll have me and if you decide to sail then we will sail even though I'm not sure that I will be overly welcome in Valinor."

"Why ever should you not be?" he had asked.

"Lowly Silvan elves are not made for Valinor." was all she had answered. She would never let him live that one down.

"My Lord?" Galion had asked.

"You are free to go, Mellon nin. I won't be alone it seems." And this time the smile had reached his eyes, if only the slightest bit.

"I am not sure how Legolas will react." he finally said timidly.

"How he will react to you coming to Valinor or how he will react to you coming with me?" she questioned.

"Both, I presume."

"Well, he will be happy to see you. As for how he will react to seeing us together, I, quite frankly, don't care." she answered proudly.

"He never contacted me. If it weren't for the Dwarves we wouldn't know that he had sailed. Why, if not due to the desire to avoid me, has he not told me that he was leaving Middle-earth?" he said with fear of rejection audible in his words.

"Even if that were the case, and I'm sure it's not, it's not _his_ Valinor. We are allowed to be there just the same and if he plans to avoid you or me, or both of us for that matter, then so be it."

"Let's hope it won't be like that." He answered before he pulled her against him and held her in his arms, his eyes never leaving the ever approaching shore.

"I think, I see him." he said after some time. And indeed there was a blond figure waiting at the coast impatiently walking along the water. Tauriel carefully untucked herself from his arms and turned to simply stand beside him.

"I told you." she whispered. He looked down at her once more and for the first time in thousands of years his eyes twinkled. She had never seen them do so before.

When the ship finally reached the shore, he didn't have time to step off it before he had his arms full of an ellon with long, blond, incredibly soft hair. "Ada." Legolas said. "Ada."

Minutes, maybe hours passed before the prince finally let go of his father and turned to the elleth next to him. "And Tauriel. It is so good to see you. Both of you." He folded her into his arms as well and after a stunned second she returned the embrace wholeheartedly.

When they left the ship and headed for Tirion, Legolas noticed how his father and Tauriel walked close together and how their hands would touch every now and again. He simply smirked at them and nodded his head in acknowledgment. Every few steps he would turn around and his eyes searched those of his father.

"I'm right behind you, ion nin." He would always say.

"I know, Ada."

* * *

 **Puh. What a long story. I'd thought about uploading this in chapters but then decided against it. I wrote it in one go (amazing. Never done that before!) and so you should be able to read it in one go as well.**

 **Please, please, please leave me a review! They make my day and I love to hear what you people think. I'd promise you things in return (like a virtual cookie, anyone?) but I've really nothing to offer except my undying and everlasting gratitude.**


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